Broken Beliefs
by icey.summer02
Summary: They thought they were invincible. They thought their ties could never be undone. They were one forever and forever one. A wave builds up in the sea, little by little, the further away it starts the bigger it gets. The tension builds until it hits that rocky out crop that sends it all crashing down, drenching everything and everyone in it's path. Vince and Howard. Lots of Angst.
1. Chapter 1

**This is part of my other fic a dictionary of boosh but it was more of a Fic in it's own right than a drabble so I am posting it as a seperate story and re-writing the other chapters to replace in the my drabble collection. This part was based on the word 'Broken'. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh, this is non profit only.**

They thought they were invincible. They thought their ties could never be undone. They were one forever and forever one.

But then came the last straw. The final snapping point. That girl has broken them. They didn't argue about girls, or indeed boys (the others preferences had always been a mystery) –it was all just innocent teasing, but this time something was different and when it hit it hit hard.

A wave builds up in the sea, little by little, the further away it starts the bigger it gets. The tension builds, sometimes it just dies away again and forms green swell that can do no real harm, but sometimes it just keeps on getting bigger until it hits that sandbank, that rocky out crop that brings it all crashing down in a foam of spray and wroth, roiling turmoil that soaks everyone and everything in it's path.

I don't know what happened. All hell broke loose. Nothing and then everything and now nothing again but with everything all inside it. We'd been cracking around the edges for a while but every time we just patched it back together with plasters sticky tape and bright coloured chewing gum and pretended it was ok. But this was the tremor that cause the destruction.

_-Vince's POV-_

"She's just a girl 'Oward!"

"Yer! Like everyone else is! I'm sick of this Vince just floating around. You don't do anything. You never help in the shop, you just poke at everything now'r days! You cant leave me be but you never do anything to help change anything. GOD!" he stormed off then, no clearer than when he started. Howard doesn't rage. He turns it in on himself, I'm the one that does all the shouting and slamming doors.

I realise then. I never heard a door shut. In fact his footsteps just die out without going anywhere.

After that it's even more of a blur. A vague apology

"Sorry 'bout this love… I better…"

"Yer… I'll just…" She heads to leave

"No!... Yer… sorry… you probably should…" I realise I don't know what to do, it's always the other way around. Howard would know how to handle this.

"Umm… Vince? Can you, can you give this to Howard… he doesn't have to but…"

"Yer, course. Sorry. He isn't normally like this…" She handed me a piece of paper with a number on before leaving. Her mobile number. It's still in my pocket, where I stored it, with every intention of giving it to him.

I think I went up stairs, to our bedroom, the first place I thought he would be. That's one thing you can count on Howard for – reliable and predictable. But, he wasn't there. The window was open but he wasn't there.

"'Oward?" "'Oward?! C'mon Howard. Look im sorry! What ever it is im sorry… 'Oward" The chilling recognition that I was calling to empty space. No-one was there. I didn't know where he went or how he got out, and I still don't but he defiantly wasn't in the flat. Even so it pushed my way through the clutter – overturning everything and searching in places no-one could ever fit into. It was like a sixth sense, a precognition, the feeling of franticness – that something really bad was happening. I don't like arguments. I say it's 'cos they upset my aura, but really it's cos they scare me. Plain out terrify me – especially when im the one the anger is directed at.

When Naboo got home I yelled at him – all the tiny fractions of anger I had stored away that were slowly building up released. All the angry thoughts that were directed at Howard _how dare he just leave! What was the argument even for anyway? Mainly just unexplainable anger and anger at my fear of the anger. _By the time I was finished I had tear tracks down my face and Naboo was holding me in a really awkward way, trying too soothe me whilst not knowing what any of it was about. He looked kinda shell shocked.

I feel bad now. That's another thing to add to my conscience, not just Howard but Naboo as well. I screamed at him and yelled at him. Pointless abuse, stuff I would never in a million years mean but thinking back it sounded like I meant every word. Every syllable. And he just stood there and took it all, didn't say a word but just absorbed my anger and then tried to comfort me. All the while a dull flame in his eyes, puzzling what I meant, trying to swallow the insults without them getting to him but I could see that it hurt him. It cut him deep where no-one should be able to get to. See the thing is, I might not read too well in words but when it comes to people I am champion. The people reader Howard used to call me. And yet I couldn't read him. I couldn't understand why he was so angry. I still can't just enough to accept that it is my fault.

That was a week and a half ago. Yesterday Naboo moved out. Said he couldn't stand it here anymore. Said it smelt of death. He was right about the death. Part of me has died. The report came out this morning. Suspected suicide. Failed the first time – tried to hang him self in a warehouse but in the end he threw himself into the Thames they said.

It's not fair. It's not the same without Howard. I thought I would feel grief but instead a numbness has spread over me – detaching all thought from emotions. I think it's because after all of that I still don't believe it. Howard wouldn't do something like that. He isn't brave enough.

_-Howard's POV-_

I can't go back.

He'll have moved on without me.

He doesn't want that anyway

God I must have killed him the way I shouted

Please! Who ever you are im begging you to let this stop.

What have I done.

Why? What did I do?

Like he said it was just a girl.

I don't normally care about them. It's just she was so different, I really wanted to be with her more.

I don't know. Maybe I was jealous. I wanted to prove that I could catch as well as Vince.

She probably didn't even like me anyway.

Who would want me?

Vince would. You heard the way he called you name. You heard what he said to Naboo. You did all that. You caused all that. With your greed and your selfishness. Your impatience and your lust to be as good. Just accept it. Vince will always be better than you. You hurt him Howard. And all because of one silly little girl.

Shut UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!

Silence.

_Sorry about that. I was in a wierd mood when I wrote it. Thanks for reading.. x Reviews?! please x_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2. This part was based on the word 'Believe'_**

**_Howard's POV_**

Running, running, running. Still running. Fleeing from the physical and the mental. From the people who cared and even those didn't. Running from the memories, places, people, things that remind me of what was and what could still have been. Running from my conscience and guilt, the terror that still pounds through my veins.

3 months I've been dead. 3 long months. Long enough to recover and then die again, this time it wasn't my organs that were failing me but the mind, my thoughts everything inside that really counts.

I guess after a while it became routine. I went north, back to where I grew up. I think I was looking for something symbolic, like that my first life began there so starting a new life there would be like re-growing up. It wasn't though because there was no loving family, no mum and a hot stew to come home to when the nights drew in and the cold bit around the edges. Instead I slept rough, occasionally sheltering in hostels and stuff, moving on every couple of days in case people recognised me. Mind you after a while people stop looking for dead men.  
I spent my savings quick but couldn't bring myself to use any of the money Vince and I had saved together in the hope of living somewhere nice and fancy, or just for doing nice things together. That money had sentiment and as much as I wanted to forget and start over that was one thing that I wouldn't touch. Instead I scavenged and begged. My hair is down to my shoulders, hanging in dirty clumps. I am unshaven and painfully thin.

It was two weeks ago that my resolve wavered but Thursday was the snapping point. Before, I had simply ignored and blanked out anything I saw that reminded me of Vince but the last few weeks everything has been so much more, even little things, like that can of root boost I saw in boots or the jumper I was going to buy Vince for his birthday on the clearance rack has made me want to go back. But it was when I came across an old issue of cheekbone, the one with Vince and I on the front because of our crimping, that I realised I couldn't go on like this. I caught the first train to London, station hopping to avoid having to pay for my tickets. Almost in a trance I found myself outside what was the Nabootique. However it wasn't anymore, it was a pet shop. I nearly gave up hope then when I caught sight Tom, one of Vince's friends.

"Hey, sorry, do you know Vince Noir?"

"Yer, what's it to you?"

"Well, sir, I used to know him. Do you know where he lives?"

"Down there, 3 streets to your left and it's the big gray building, 4th floor, can't remember the number though. Mind you mate, he isn't what he used to be like."

I go to say thanks but the guy's already strutting off the other way.

**-Vince's pov-**

3 months is a long time. 82 days and counting.

The first week was a blur. After that I fell apart, didn't eat, didn't sleep. I didn't leave the house but still I couldn't cry, not after that first day with Naboo. I haven't done yet, I don't think I can as much as it makes me angry that I can't just let my emotions out it's hard to morn someone when in your heart you still believe in them. That's what it's like, like believing in magic or fairies or God. I believe in Howard. I believe that he isn't dead. It's silly I know but my head won't accept the idea that he isn't here so I've had to try and believe that he is.

It's once I came to that decision that I sorted my self out. Well, to an extent. I still don't sleep without nightmares and everyday is the same monotonous routine as before. I tried to clear Howard out of my head by clearing out all him stuff but that just made it worse so now it has it own part of my room. I only have one room now, I couldn't afford the Nabootique without Howard, even if Naboo paid part of the rent I couldn't bring myself to open up shop again and without that I would have gone into debt seriously fast. So I bought a flat around the corner. It's pretty dismal but I did a couple of paintings and that brightened it up. Not that I really wanted to make anything bright. As far as I was concerned any happiness on my part was unfair and upright on Howard.

What changed it was that I thought, quite suddenly, like an epiphany, if Howard is still alive he wouldn't want me to live like this. He always cared for me and made sure I was ok, in a way making myself miserable for him would be like dishonoring him almost. And if he came back ever he wouldn't want a depressed miserable and suicidal Vince. So I cleaned up my act, sorted myself out, made myself a better person. I have a part time job and I spend my wages on sensible Howard things like the rent and food, even clearing product instead of clothes and nights out.  
My life feels like a shell which I made and everyday I create a feeble attempt to fill it with my actions, but at least it's something. One thing that really has changed is that I haven't touched a girl since Howard left. Sometimes it's actually physically painful to look at a female.

So everyday I have got up and filled the empty pointless time, still counting the days. Counting the days until I see Howard again, whether on this earth or someplace else. All because I believe.

**-Howard's POV-**

I breath deeply, trying to remember calming exercises I had once learned and, shaking, raise my hand and knock three times in consecution. Knock, knock, knock. I want to run, Everything in me want's to run away. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all.  
But then it's too late, the door opens and there stands Vince, he looks tired, older even, but definitely Vince. And now I don't want to run away, I want to run too him. But I hold my ground, force my shacking legs to stay where they are, after all, even if he does want me back I probably smell like something died.

"Sorry mate, I can't spare any money" His voice, resigned and weary, is enough to stop my heart. He goes to shut the door again and I realise that if I don't so something then this would be it, I couldn't ever come back once that door shuts. For a split second I think about letting that happen, but I know that I won't be strong enough to let that happen. Not again, I couldn't face walking away a second time. I take a small step forward

"Little man?" I croak out "Little man, it's me"

"Howard?" Vince looks like half of him doesn't believe me, half of him wants to believe me, part of him is confused and the rest already knows what my answer will be

"Yes" I breath and suddenly I'm crying and Vince's arms are around me and mine around him and we're holding on to each other to stop ourselves collapsing and in that moment I know that we will never ever let go again. It's all going to be ok.

"It's all going to be ok little man."

"I know Howard. I know."

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**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the boosh**

_**Thanks for reading. Please leave a review! I means a lot. :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hey, this is part one of the explination that I promised to a few people. Enjoy. :) x_**

**_DISCLAMER: I DON'T OWN THE BOOSH_**

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**Howards POV**

Vince and I stand there for a long time. Not speaking, not moving. Holding each other because there seems no other option. But slowly I become acutely aware that I must smell really bad and it can't be comfortable for Vince to be clutching at the bony, angled figure that I am. I don't really care but even still I gradually shift enough that Vince realises and lets go, both of us moving slowly – not wanting the moment to end, as if, if we move to fast one of us will disappear. Our eyes meet and we simultaneously blush. I only now realise that I probably hadn't seen Vince without make up before. He looks different, plainer but in a nice way. He isn't dressed up fancy ether – just plain black jeans and a jumper, his hair hasn't changed much although its clear he hasn't dyed it for a while given the length of his roots. Even without any added features he is still stunning and entrancing. My heart burns in an odd way that I can't describe.

**Vince's POV**

I have so many questions but all but one seem entirely inappropriate at the moment, so I ask that one to break the awkward buzzing silence.

"Do you want to come in?" I swallow, realising his answer may well be no. Or that I may well be talking to a hallucination – although he felt too solid for that.

"umm… can I?" Wow, he's even more shy than before. I realise that I will have to take control of the situation.

"'Course. Why wouldn't you be able to?" As I say it I kick myself mentally. Vince, Vince, Vince! You Idiot!

Howard begins to answer, unsure whether I was being rhetorical or not. I silence him with a shush and then, spontaneously, kiss him. Nothing like the long drawn out things I had once fantasised about – just a brush, barely touching his lips. I'm not sure why I do it, perhaps it was really really stupid but it felt like the right thing to do. Howard freezes. I've never really been one for thinking about my actions and in the last few minutes I am regretting it more and more.

"Vince I-" He begins, I already know what's coming next, it's _that_ voice.

"Inside? Please?" I cut him off, I can feel my eyes begging to wet again in fear of rejection. Trying desperately not to let them spill over I give a tug on Howards hand but he remains unmoving, solid as stone, his expressions something I can't begin to describe. I stop trying not to cry and let the tears fall again, one by one in hot salty drops, splashing accusingly onto the ground. And now we're both frozen, the only thing is my tears. Howards eyes watch them fall and yet he still doesn't respond. I am shaking, I'm not entirely sure why but it's uncontrollable and I can't stop. My heart thrums in my chest, uncertain as to whether it should be re-starting it's self after so long or dying altogether.

- **Howards POV**

I can't move, can't breathe. All logic says I should reach out and comfort Vince but something invisible is stopping me. I remain unwavering, my mind frozen like a computer screen. The only thing getting through is the taste of Vince's kiss, as fleeting as it was still burning on my lips and his words branded into my mind "Why wouldn't you be able to?". I can think of so many different reasons why but pinpoint none. I realise that that is because none of them have any significance right now. Something presses the play button on my mind and it unfreezes. I can move again. I reach over and, carefully, put one finger under his eye, catching the tear as it falls. I want to do something stupid like taste the tear but that seems far to sentimental and pathetic for the situation. Instead we remain there for some time before I speak.

"Inside?" I whisper.

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_Reviews please? x_


	4. Chapter 4

**This is part 2 of the explanation and probably the end. :) Enjoy.**

_**WARNINGS: Themes of self hate, suicide, depression etc. Happy days :/**_

**_Disclaimer_**_**: I don't own the Boosh**_

**_Disclaimer_**_** 2: I am honestly not mentally disturbed. Honestly. **_

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**Vinces POV**

"Inside?" Howard whispers and had I not seen his lips move I would swear I had imagined it. I click back into gear and turn back inside, keeping one hand near Howard at all times.

I busy about the room, flicking the kettle on for tea and rummaging through cupboards for biscuits, although Howard looks like he could probably eat more than that. I avoid eye contact, I feel suddenly ashamed of my flat, how far low it would probably fall on Howards standards for proper living, I don't even have a proper bed, just a sofa-bed.

I hand him his steaming mug and find a plate to put the biscuits on, although they're more like cakes given how soft they've become. Once I have I sit down on the one sofa, gesturing that he should too. He does, but as far away as the seat will allow. He does drink the tea though and I realise what he felt like every time he managed to get me to eat a decent meal , not just sweets – like I was doing something really good and helpful for him. We remain in silence for a while, just sitting, relishing in each other's presence, even if it is still awkward and full of impossible questions.

"Vince, can I… Do you have a shower I could use?" He gestures to his hair and smiles just a little bit at the edges of his mouth. I notice that he changed the question to whether I actually had a shower.

"Yeah, sure. It's through there. I'll get you a towel." He heads toward the bathroom door and I toward the airing cupboard, where pretty much everything else is kept.

"Do you want anything else?" I call

"umm… Do you have a razor? Or some scissors?"

I pad into the bathroom, knocking first and hand him the stuff

"Thanks."

"S'ok. Do you want me to make something to eat? You've got to be hungry?"

"If it's ok?"

"Course. Anything imparticular?"

"It's ok. Anything will do." And that half smile is back and for a second it feels like nothing ever happened. I want to hug him again. But instead I walk out, closing the door carefully behind me.

I let the water drip down my face, along my forehead down my nose, across my lips and off my chin. I stand there, eyes half closed and think about everything that has happened. The pain of it all seems to wash away with the water down the drain. Something changed seeing Vince again. I think that here I am content, or more content than I have been in a very long time. Despite the knowledge that I will have to answer questions soon enough, I no longer feel panicky and closed up about it, rather I can finally think, finally clear my head of all the scrambled mess that crammed it for so long. Once I have order I can think clearly and properly, understand what's going on but the moment anything becomes tangled I loose all reasoning and logic – loose myself to my inhibitions and, in a way, go mad. I become paranoid and self convicting. I question my actions and my being until the only light at the end of the tunnel is the blackness of the end.  
But now, with the fresh water cascading around me I can finally begin to undo what I have done. Not least in my mind but in person.

I catch myself humming to myself as I cook. It's not the - of my music but instead the riff from one of Howard's Jazz records. I put them on occasionally to try and fill the empty gap he'd left and actually, once I listened to them enough, I found a couple that I quite liked. From behind me voice picked up the tune, seeing it to the end of that particular bit. I don't turn around, in case it's just my imagination playing tricks.

"Jazz Vince? Really?" He asks incredulously, sounding surprised, once he'd finished.

"Yeah… Occasionally… It reminds me of you I guess." I give a vague answer but trying to be honest.

Howard sighs heavily. "I'm sorry Vince."

"Umm.. Me too." I say, still not looking around, he need not see that once again my eyes are threatening to overflow. We lapse into silence once more.

I only turn around once the pasta is dished up. The first thing I notice is that Howard looks very warm and cosy, perched on a chair with damp hair around his shoulders and a plain t-shirt and trousers I found in the box labelled 'Howard things.'. The second thing I notice is that he has shaved, but not completely. The half formed scraggly beard is gone, replace by slightly raggedy stubble that actually is a little bit longer than stubble, his moustache is only slightly more prominent than it. Although his hair isn't actually shorter it is thinner, I presume some of the knots may have had to be cut out, so it appears shorter. It is slightly wavy. I like it.

After a while of eating in silence I finally pick up the courage to ask Howard.

"Howard, I-"

- **Howard's POV**

"Howard, I-" So. It's time to answer. And I know I have to. I value Vince and my friendship more than anything on earth – I know that now- and because of that I have to answer. Even so I feel like I am in a court of law, swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. And like a witness would swear on a bible or other holy book, I am swearing on our friendship.

"I know. You need answers, you deserve answers. What I did those three months ago was uncalled for and unnessisarry. I don't want to make excuses and I don't want to play it down. You need to know and you need to know everything. And one thing I need to make very clear now is that you can't blame it on yourself. The trigger yes, may have been initiated by both of us but nothing this size would ever have come out of it were it not for what was going on in my head."

And then I tell him everything. All of my 'shower thoughts' on how my mind had seemed to stop functioning. How once the seed of doubt had been sewn nothing could stop it growing until it was possessing me. How I kept it in and bottled it up, pretending that it was normal until that trigger, the girl, when everything had become to much and I had had to let it out. But still I hadn't been able to let it out directly, not like any normal person by violence or anger. No, instead I turned it inward and all my anger that had built up turned to self hate and then to loathing, all directed toward myself and how weak I thought I was.  
I told Vince how after I left I had come back, with every intention to try again but then I had heard him and Naboo talking, or rather him talking and crying and screaming at Naboo.  
"And I had realised then that I couldn't just go back. That I was too far gone and I had hurt you too much already. I think that was what did it. The fact that I knew I had caused you pain." At this Vince made an odd choked noise, like I wild animal. He looked like he wanted to intervene and say something but he didn't so I continued.

I told him how I had tried to hang myself but lost courage at the last minuet. This created a whole new level of self hate, that I was incapable of even ending the pain. I tried again to kill myself, this time in a daze and I honestly can't remember how exactly, but when I woke up it was miles away, very wet and I was very lucky to have nothing more than mild pneumonia according to a doctor.  
I explained how I had gone to Yorkshire to start a new life, failed and ended up here.

When I finish Vince is staring at me, already drying tear streaks down his cheeks.

I make may way around the table, kneel so I am his height and place my hand on his.

"Vince?" He moves his hand so it is resting on the edge of my face. The other, under mine is as cold as ice.

"Vince?"

"Howard" He says, as if he is confirming that I am here, not just in person but for clarity in his mind. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"No, really, as much as you think it's your fault I didn't help. I was an arrogant, self centred prick. I didn't care about anyone but me really. So, yeah, I'm sorry and you can't tell me not to be 'cos I am and you're just going to have to accept that that's the way it is."

Somewhere through all my emotions I find myself chuckling, almost hysterically but I am laughing, proper laughing. I'm not sure why and I'm not sure I care why but I am. To start with Vince looks puzzled and a bit offended but then he joins in and before long we are both laughing and crying, tears of joy and relief and the last of the sadness that was. And we both know that it's all going to be ok.

**Narrator POV :)**

Sometimes even the strongest fortresses and defenses can be broken and the smallest of waves can have a deadly rip current underneath. But even still if people care about the things that the wave destroys then no matter what the cost, the time or the energy everything can one day be re-built, no matter how small or big it was, important or unimportant with the right materials and support it can be mended. And mostly it will be stronger than it was before the wave came crashing down because it will be re-built with the wave in mind.

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_Thanks for reading:) I am thinking about writing a sort of epilogue but I'm not sure. What do you think? Reviews are really really lovely.:)_


	5. Epilogue

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN IT. **

_Epilogue:_

_3 months later:_

Howard and Vince sit on their new sofa in the new house close together. The last of the snow outside is melting, turning to slush. This is the bit of winter that Vince really hates; when it is cold but not quite cold enough for the crisp white laying to remain on the ground, so instead it melts, washing away, clumps of it floating around in a torrent of water that clogs up drains and floods gardens. The salt from the grit gets on Vince's shoes and spoils them, making him miserable and wish the snow had never fallen.  
That is what it's normally like. But not right now, right now he has a log fire crackling to it's self in the corner, a good book and a brand new pair of snow shoes that Howard gave him for Christmas. But to Vince these material objects mean very little, what makes the difference is that he has Howard to snuggle up to inside, Howard to shield him from the elements and the wet and to be honest Vince couldn't care where he was, what the weather was like or his worldly riches, to him Howard is all he needs. It's a good job he has him then.

Howard shifts slightly, re-positioning Vince who is curled up, head resting on his shoulder, taking up most of the sofa. Howard has the newspaper in his hand although he is no longer reading it, rather watching Vince breath in and out, eyes half closed as he determinedly tries to finish the last chapter of his book before sleep succumbs him.  
Howard thinks about the last 6 months. He thinks that if someone where to paint a picture, no rather just to paint lines but use the colours to describe it, it would start with bright reds, vivid angry and aggressive. The line would be thick and take the whole canvas up, leaving no room for anything else. Then the picture would become full of other colours, al twisting together, fighting for dominance, but they wouldn't be the many multifaceted colours of the rainbow, all happy and bright but clear and defined, rather each colour would have a thousand shades with in it and within that a thousand more. Then the colours would fade and merge, like if you mixed every colour of paint together but instead of making a dull drown they make a desolate, empty blue, slowly getting lighter and darker at the same time until it is gray and then the gray makes black and the black is all there is for what seems like a very long time. However gradually gray silvers wind back in as a light in the tunnel appears before a massive golden, bright takes over about the time Howard saw Vince again – just a splodge to start with but slowly other colours also fade in to the sliver gray black until nearly all the black is gone and the picture is a mass of bright colours, warm burgundies, deep oranges and crimson, signifying the warmth and comfort and also the passion that Howard and Vince's new life brought with it. There is also other, bright colours, yellows and pink that wrap them selves in as Vince's sunshine kid, lollypops and candy persona returns. Other colours are still joining, more recently Shaman and Gorilla colours as Naboo and Bollo rejoin their lives. And by this point, although the black streaks may still be there, nibbling at the edges the line of colour is still dancing away from it, leaving the desolate and bleak colours behind and making room for the new interweaving, explosion of colour to take it's place.

The house was Vince's idea, after all his tiny flat was defiantly not big enough for the both of them, not least when he got a call from Naboo saying that he had heard about Howard and Bollo wanted to see them again. Which was Naboo's way of saying that he was missing them.  
And so, about a month later they had sold the last of the Nabootique (They were still renting the rooms above apparently), Vince's flat and delved into the savings they had collected, deciding that this was defiantly how they wanted to spend them, and bough a house. It's not that big, and they still don't have much furniture but they love it. It is the first place since the zoo that they really feel is home. The house is quite old but the interior is done up really modern and with a bit of 'Vince's magic' –as Howard put it- it really is very them. They even managed to save some money on furniture, after all, one bed would most certainly be enough for the both of them.

And so, the aftermath of the wave has been cleared up, and no-one's saying it was easy – because it wasn't- and it took a lot of hard work and dedication but all that is left is the memories in people's minds and the new defences and in built warning, so that should it ever happen again, God forbid, it will be spotted and stopped before it's too late. For this part of the coast they are safe, and the people can sleep easy tonight, knowing it's all going to be ok.

**Ok. So I'm more than a little bit proud of this… ;) I personally think it's some of the best writing I've done of this sort in a while… But… ****_What do you think?!_**** (OHH, shameless digging for reviews… hehe) but seriously though, this is it now, so, what did you think?**

**Also, Thank you to the encouraging and brilliant ****Growly Noir**** who, as far as I can think has reviewed pretty much every chapter of everything I write… ;) thank you xx. ;)**

_Reviews? X thanks for reading ;)_


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